A Rather Fruity Tale

I remembered what else I was going to tell you.

Sunday I took a walk down to campus, and I may have seen the best graffito ever. I’m cruising down Green St., ducking between the kids with their iPods and their flip flops and their orange T-shirts, and saw this scrawled on the side of Papa Del’s:

GRAPES RULE!

Just that, in chalk on the brick. It’s probably some fraternity's nickname or something, but I had this immediate vision of an alternate world where people with a passion backed fruits instead of politicians or sports teams or whatever. Instead of debating the designated hitter, they’d argue about citrus versus fleshy fruits, or whether fruits with edible skins were better than fruits you have to peel. All the team mascots would be fruits—like the Florida Fighting Tangerines versus the Washington Apples. And the extremists would get all violent and vandalistic in the name of fruit. Imported fruit is stealing your job! Seedless watermelon is an abomination! Grapes rule! Yeaaaaahhh!

Yeah. So. Gotta go see about winning a handgun raffle. Later skater!